


Changing Seasons

by cellard00rs



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Aging, Angst, Death, F/M, First Time, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Old Age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-28 15:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: You don't date in your sixties, do you? And you certainly don't date someone who's been your best friend almost your whole life and who you've never thought about in that way before, right? Except, well, maybe when you do...on both counts.
Relationships: Christy Neal/Link Neal, Jessie McLaughlin/Rhett McLaughlin, Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 28
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lallyloo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallyloo/gifts).



“Dad, it’s time,” Lily says so simply, so easily that Link just stares at her. When does the child become the adult? That sure seems like the case here, but he refuses to acknowledge it, instead pushing some of the checker pieces in front of him around the board, “Don’t know what you mean.”

Lily rolls her eyes, “Come on, it’s been over ten years. Mom is gone-”

“Thanks, I remember.”

She ignores the bitterness and continues, “-and me and Lando agree. You’ve gotta get back out there.”

“Out where?”

A heavy sigh, “Don’t be deliberately obtuse.”

“‘Deliberately’-?” he starts repeating, eyebrows rising as he looks at her in wonder, “Who raised you? When did you learn to talk like that? They teach you that fancy talk at the office? Or did you learn it from that guy…what was his name? Bryce?”

“It was Trish, actually.”

“Trish?” Link frowns, confused, “You still seeing her? I thought you were with Bryce.”

Lily shakes her head, “I dated a _Brian_ , then Trish, who I’ll admit had something of a vocabulary but right now it’s all about Ben. I’m stepping away from the dating pool for now to focus on what’s most important.”

“Ben - how is my grandson?”

“He’s fine,” she stresses and glares at him with an expression that reminds him so much of Christy’s it hurts, “And stop changing the subject. You need to go back out into the world, Dad. You _need_ to date and - again, Lando and I agree on this - you _need_ to date Rhett.”

Lily directs this so easily that it makes his hands sort of scatter, knocking checker chips everywhere. He thinks about blaming it on arthritis, but thus far he’s thankfully avoided that. His hands might be unsteady now and again in his old age, but they’re still in mostly good shape.

Wrinkled, sure. Less than pristine seeing as they no longer have that bright sheen of youth, but still - not bad. Certainly not the kind that would just randomly toss chips and yet there they go, spilling all around. To be fair, he hadn’t even really been playing - more toying around with the game board.

After all, what else is there to do? And now here he is - his adult daughter telling him to date his best friend, as if _that’s_ what he should do (or should have _been_ doing) and he just stares at her, “Why on earth would I go and do something like that?!”

Another eye roll and yes, she might be grown but he’s _thisclose_ to scolding her about that action, “Dad - please.”

“What?!” he asks in a somewhat hysterical manner because this is _crazy_. Absolutely coo coo bananas. This generation…

…and good gosh, he _has_ become an old man, hasn’t he?

Lily barrels on, “You _want_ to date him. You’ve probably _always_ wanted to date him. I know that, Lando knows that - Lincoln does too, but he’s been busy overseas, so, y'know we haven’t had as much of a chance to talk to him about it, but I honestly don’t think he’d give a shit-”

“Language!”

“-crap,” she corrects smoothly and leans back in the chair across from him, arms folding over one another, “And like I said, Mom is gone and Rhett’s divorce is years old. He and Jessie split amicably - she’s moved on, he hasn’t and why? Probably because he’s waiting for you to call him.”

“I just talked to him last night!” he cries and she sits up, one hand lightly smacking the table, “Yeah! And no doubt you two just circled around one another like you _always_ do! You talk about all this-this inane, useless stuff and just-just avoid the _real_ issue!”

“The _real_ issue?!”

Lily sighs and reaches for one of his hands, holds it as if to comfort him, “That you’re both single again, both lonely again, and both missing one another more than two friends should miss one another.”

He snatches his hand back and pouts. He _pouts_. Again, when does the child become the adult? He crosses his own arms over his chest, doing his best to look surly, “I _do_ miss Rhett. I used to see him every day. I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean I miss him so much that I think we should _date_. For goodness sake’s, I’m in my _sixties_ , Lily. People my age don’t _date_.”

“Fine, call it whatever you want - but just, I mean, go out with him,” she does this strange almost 'shoo-ing’ gesture, “And I mean out _out_. This isn’t the _nineties_ , Dad. Heck, not even the early two thousands - we’re pretty deep into it now and most people aren’t going to look one way or another if you two _finally_ hook up.”

Link doesn’t want to keep repeating his daughter, but it’s hard not to say _'hook up’, because clearly she’s lost her mind. She’s a single mother. Who will care for Ben if she has to be carted off to the nuthouse? Which is clearly where she’s headed._

_…his sons too._

_…I mean, the very idea…_

_…'hookin’ up with Rhett…_

_…ridiculous…_

A chuckle breaks into his thoughts and Lily looks at him with love and amusement shining from her eyes, “You do know you’re saying all that stuff out loud, right?”

Link blinks and swallows because no, he didn’t. And he doesn’t think it’s a sign of senility so much as shock. Lily gets up and starts picking up the mess he made, shaking her head as she does so, “All I’m saying is…I think it would be good for you. BOTH of you.”

Link’s nose twitches and he runs a finger under it, “… _I_ think you’re out of your mind.”

Lily finishes cleaning up the chips and kisses her father’s forehead, “And _I_ think you’re sweet. And silly. And just a little too stubborn for your own good.”

“Quit quoting your Mama.”

She shrugs, “Can’t help it. She was a wise woman and, I might add, a woman who would be happy to see you settled. She loved you, Dad, And so do I. So, I mean - if anything, just…think about it. Okay?”

There’s another kiss to the forehead before she gathers up her things and then there’s a quick talk about when they’ll see each other next and then she’s gone.

Gone.

And Link is alone again.

Alone and looking at a stupid checker board he doesn’t even play and a pile of chips.

…ask Rhett out. Ask him out. As in a date. As in 'hooking up’. As in…

He looks out over his porch and sighs, about a million thoughts rolling all over one another in his mind.

Ask Rhett out.

It’s insane…

…but is it really any more insane than anything else he’s done in his life?


	2. Chapter 2

Rhett used to live closer.

Now he doesn’t.

Link knows there are a variety of factors that went into the move, and he respects them. Still, it was nice before - when he didn’t have to travel so far. Now here he is, driving out into the middle of nowhere to see someone who used to be a short distance away.

Everything used to be…closer.

Sometimes Link looks back, riffles through his memories and it’s almost painful. It’s not that the memories are bad per say, it’s more how they feel. So close and so far – recent, yet ages ago. It’s an uncomfortable dichotomy, so he does his best to just concentrate on the present.

And, presently, he’s pulling up to a tiny little cabin surrounded by towering California redwoods. His car crunches loudly over the gravel drive - loud enough to summon his friend, even if his hearing’s declining. Although - to be fair, Link’s hearing is not the greatest either.

Hearing, sight, the combined ache of your muscles and bones - yeah, getting older is a real bitch. Not a word Link likes to say, much less think, but facts are facts. Age isn’t pretty, albeit there are some advantages. One of which being that you can pretty much go and do whatever you please, whenever you please.

Especially if you made a rather lucrative creative endeavor at one point. Mythical Morning may be gone, but the capital earned is doing its job of keeping him cushy in his golden years. Rhett as well, who certainly couldn’t have afforded this place otherwise and as he emerges from his home he offers a wave.

Link returns it, but finds he has to fight off a scowl. Really, it’s not fair. Link went silver early and he always thought he looked pretty damned handsome with it- a total silver fox.

But Rhett?

Well, Rhett always _did_ have a history of beating him.

He might have gone silver later, but damned if he doesn’t wear it better. His beard is neatly trimmed, long hair tied back and he looks like some kind of rugged highlander cowboy combo that could get away with being on the cover of one of those old romance novels Christy used to thumb through.

…terrible…

A man his age shouldn’t look so good.

 _Rhett_ shouldn’t look so good.

And considering what Link’s come here to talk about he really doesn’t want to think about that right now.

 _Focus on the present, Neal_ , he reminds himself, shaking his head while he parks. When he gets out Rhett charges up, one hand out for a shake, which Link takes and then the two share a brief, back slapping hug.

“How ya been, brother?”

“Told you last night - tired and tired of being tired. You?”

“Same,” Rhett chuckles, “but figured if you were makin’ the drive up here, there might be more to say.”

There is, but Link’s not ready for it, instead clearing his throat while moving towards the two rocking chairs near the porch, “Mind if I-?”

“Help yourself,” Rhett says with an expansive gesture and the two end up seated and looking out over the wilderness. Link’s been here before. They’ve done this before. Just sat in these chairs and shot the shit. But today, Link finds himself a little more riled than usual, a little stiffer, and Rhett must pick up on it, because he sighs, “You might as well spit it out.”

“Spit what out?”

“Whatever it is you’re trying to avoid, bo,” Rhett says and he’s got a cooler of sprite nearby. He grabs a can and cracks it open, taking a swig before continuing, “We can sit here and waste time until you work up the nerve or-”

“I have the nerve!” Link cries but Rhett just goes on as if he hasn’t been interrupted, “-you can just spill. Probably feel better after.”

“Doubt that,” Link grouses and reaches into the cooler to get his own drink. Because Rhett managed to call him out so smoothly, so quickly, he decides to take his time on purpose. What was it Lily said? Be ‘deliberately obtuse’? It’s not quite what he’s doing now, but close enough.

Rhett, unbothered by Link’s act of defiance, merely sips his can and rests in his chair - annoyingly regal and relaxed. Sometimes Link really hates him. But it’s the kind of hate that’s so tangled up with affection that it’s irritating beyond measure, so he just stews over his own soda and _waits_.

For the longest time, it feels like neither will break the silence, but - considering Link came here to see Rhett and not the other way around - he decides (very graciously, he might add) to bend first, “Is it ever hard on you?”

One of Rhett’s eyebrows wing upwards, “Is what ever hard on me?”

Link shifts about, suddenly wishing these wooden chairs had some cushion, “The whole,” he waves a hand around them, “lonely woodsman thing?”

“…you think I’m lonely?”

“Well, I mean…” Link feels very tongue tied and very stupid and he doesn’t want to somehow inadvertently insult or hurt his friend, “Do you-? Do you ever think about how-how things changed?”

Rhett shrugs easily, “Things change, Link. That’s just life. Nature.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Link grumbles, “But I mean-? I’m more like-?” he growls under his breath because he’s annoyed that he can’t articulate his thoughts easily, “You and Jessie…”

“What about me and Jessie?”

“I mean…you were married…”

“We _were_?” Rhett asks the last as if it’s a hugely shocking revelation and Link hopes his expression manages to convey how he feels about _that_ kind of response, “Yes. You and Jessie were married and then, y'know, um, you-you _weren’t_ and I-I guess I just wondered if-if-?”

Rhett takes a deep pull on his sprite before sighing, “Are you asking if I’m lonely without Jessie?”

“Uh…sort of? Or, I mean, more-more directly - did you ever think this…this is how it would end up.”

“Gosh, _no_ ,” Rhett laughs and the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way that always makes Link’s heart twirl a little, “No, I sure didn’t. But; mean, ’s like I said, things change. So do people. Jessie and I loved one another, but,” he shrugs again, “Kids grew up, moved out, and when it was just me and her we’d found things’d changed.”

“But…” Link sounds sort of lost, “How?”

Rhett’s narrows his eyes at him, “Man, you _know_ how. We’ve talked about this! She and I were just…different people than we used to be. Different from who we were when we got married and all. It wasn’t bad - we still loved one another. But there just…”

He rolls his shoulders and sighs again, one big hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “Wasn’t that spark anymore. I love her. Still do. Heck, we still talk - just spoke to her last week! But being _in_ love with her?”

The last is asked in a way that pretty much answers itself. Link gets it. He _does_ understand it. And as Rhett said – they’ve talked about this before. Back when it first happened, even. Link _knows_ the story. He knows it and he knows it and yet…

“I guess, I’m…well, I’m-I’m just asking because you-you live up here all by yourself and I…I live by _myself_ and…”

Rhett’s heavy lidded eyes take on this sad, soulful look, one that makes Link’s throat close up around his words, “That what this really about, brother? You thinkin’ about Christy again? You really the lonely one?”

“Yes,” Link blurts and, sort of horrified that he did, rushes on, “And no. No, mean…this-this isn’t about Christy…this-this is about Lily.”

Rhett’s eyes widen and his head rears back, the confusion on his face paramount, “Okay, alright then - color me perplexed, 'cause I don’t see how _my_ being lonely and then _your_ being lonely has _anything_ to do with your daughter.”

“Lily thinks we should go out!” Link squeaks loudly and _hoo boy_! Bad enough the words came out in _that_ sharp of a tone, but he also Did. Not. Mean. To. Say. Them!

He was planning on working into it in a far more casual manner. Maybe even jokingly. Like, 'Hey, my daughter thinks we should go out! Isn’t that a laugh riot?’ Or 'So, my children are conspiring against us!’ Or really anything - any way - different than how it came out just now.

Rhett, for his part, doesn’t seem all that rocked by this announcement, “Oh. Um. Alright. Sounds good.”

“ _Sounds good_?!” And wow. Just _wow_. Link thought he sounded squeaky and loud before. That came out even worse. Mickey-Mouse-sucked-on-helium-and-went-hysterical worse. Rhett must have misunderstood, right? Right?!

As if sensing the question, Rhett finishes off his sprite and tosses the can in a nearby trash can, “Sure. We can go out. Where you wanna go? Wouldn’t mind takin’ a trip. Been an age since we done it.”

His reply confirms Link’s thinking and he deflates, but only a smidge, because he now knows he still has to _explain_ , “No, no, no. I-I mean she wants us to go out. As-as in out _out_.”

Watching the realization dawn on Rhett’s face should be funny. It really should. More so when he asks in a higher tenor, “Out out as in-?”

“As in a _date_ , man. My little girl thinks we should _date_ ,” Link wants to make this into a joke. He feels like he should be able to do that. He _knows_ he should. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? One big joke and he tries to laugh but the sound comes out so false and weird he stops it immediately, instead pressing on, “Rest of my kids too. She was just…just the one elected to bring it up or-or something…”

Rhett sits up straighter and crosses his arms. His eyes dart from side to side and he looks like he’s thinking so danged _hard_ about this. Way harder than Link thinks he should.

“Let me get this straight: your kids,” Rhett points to Link, “think we,” he waves a finger between the two of them, “should go out with one another?”

“Yes.”

Rhett blinks several times as if he’s physically processing this. His mind a computer pushing through a big old file of data. Which is probably why he offers an indelicate, “Huh.”

“Right?!” Link cries, because he feels like Rhett _understands_. Rhett _gets_ Link. Rhett knows exactly how Link thinks and feels and Rhett gets this situation, _Link’s_ situation, perfectly.

“My kids pushed me back into datin’ long before yours did.”

…and this was _not_ the response Link expected. He’d expected laughter. He’d expected an eyeroll. He’d expected anything but Rhett to say what he just said and thus his response is less than elegant, “Eh?”

“Locke and Shepard got on me 'bout dating only a year or two after the deal with Jessie was finalized. Think they were worried I’d become some ol’ hermit in the woods…” the last comes out in a bit of a chuckle as Rhett looks around them, “Can you believe that?”

Link can’t help but join him in chuckling on that front. Once the laughter dies down, Rhett sits up, threading his fingers together before letting his hands hang down between his knees, “Told ‘em I didn’t need it. You reach a certain age and you don’t date anymore.”

“That’s what I told, Lily!” Link crows; overjoyed that his pal is in agreement.

One slender shoulder rises and falls in an easy motion as he confesses, “Not that I haven’t been out though.”

This draws Link up short. It startles him. It makes him sit up as well, his own hands mirroring Rhett’s and one of his legs starts jiggling restlessly, “Y-Y-you’ve been-? Been seeing someone?”

“Nah,” Rhett offers a lazy grin, “Not seriously. Seen a coupla different folks, but no one I’d care to see again.”

So.

Rhett had…or _is_ …dating. Sure, he doesn’t _call_ it dating, but still…the omission trips Link up. For some reason, he’d just believed both he and Rhett were in the same boat. Sure, Rhett was divorced, not widowed, but Link had felt – in some way – that it held the same sort of principle.

You chose someone to spend the rest of your life with and when their life or your life ended, that was that. There was nothing else, _no one,_ else. And he’s aware how immature that is, how backwards-thinking, but it just…it’s what he always thought. Until now. Until this very moment where Rhett revealed that it’s not that way at all.

At least not for him.

Rhett…seeing people…with-with potential romantic intent…

For some reason it just doesn’t compute and now Link knows _he’s_ the one blinking madly as he tries to process this. One reason it’s hard to swallow comes to mind, so he asks, "You-you never mentioned…?”

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell.”

“ _You’re telling me right now_!” And there’s that hysteric tone again.

“Not givin’ you names, now am I?”

Link feels the sound of sheer disgruntled aggravation that leaves him right now really nails his feelings home. Rhett, however, is unmoved, “Gotta say though, Lily is way off base…”

Link’s hands unhook as he practically melts. A wave of relief washes over him, his whole body falling back to rest against the chair, “ _Finally_!”

“…we already know one another.”

Link’s head snaps back up so quickly it defies his advanced age, “What?”

“Well, not only are we well past the age of dating, dating in and of itself is for people who don’t know one another,” Rhett returns candidly, “We’ve known one another damn near all our lives. So, telling us we should date isn’t quite right. If we went out, it’d probably be called something else.”

“ _What_?!”

Rhett strokes at his beard thoughtfully, “Wonder if there’s a name for that? People who’ve known one another for a long time, but then decide to bump it up a notch. Mean, it’s probably still just called 'dating’, but I really think they should come up with another word for it, because they’re making up new words all the time for all kinds of things so, you think there’d be one for that.”

“ _WHAT_?!”

Rhett looks at Link and he edges closer to him, voice colored with concern, “You alright there? Thought I was the one with the bad hearing. My hearing aids really help, so if you think your ears are starting to go you can ask your doc about-?”

“My hearing is _fine_ ,” Link stresses, “But I’m not sure about everything else, because, apparently, I’ve woken up in some alternate universe!”

“…well, we _did_ used to say we traveled the multiverse.”

“Can it, McLachlin!” Link points at him, tone sharp, “ _You’re_ the one who said it wasn’t a question you needed to answer!”

“…a question-?”

“Back on the show!” Link cries, “One time you said you didn’t need to answer the question of what it’d be like if we kissed or made out or-!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Rhett laughs and waves both of his hands, “Look…first off - for the most part - you’ve always had a better memory’n me. Even back before we were old coots. Second, pretty presumptions of you, ain’t it?”

Link frowns, waits for Rhett to continue the thought and when he does, it takes all the strength Link has within in his body not to strangle the other man, “Mean – you jumping right into kissing and making out…haven’t even taken me out proper yet. If you want to start courting me…”

“ _I don’t_!” Link practically leaps to his feet at that. A rather impressive feat considering his body doesn’t move with near the alacrity it used to, “I-I-I mean, I’m-I’m not-!”

“No?” Rhett sniffs, “Rude.”

“What?” And Link hates repeating himself, hates sounding so stupefied but honestly: what the heck? “Do you _want_ me to be _courting_ you? To take you out _out_? To _date_?”

Rhett looks far too damned tranquil for this conversation, “Just because a long time ago I said I didn’t need to answer the question to that, don’t mean I’m not pondering it now.”

And with that, Link dies.

Or he feels like he dies.

Or something else.

Something transcendent. Something where he really has confirmed that, somehow, the planets have shifted, the stars have aligned, and he’s been transported to another universe, because he couldn’t have possibly heard that right.

Yet he knows he did.

Link feels lightheaded. He feels like he’s outside of his body, his voice coming back to him in an echo, lips moving unbidden, “But-? You’re-you’re not-? You’ve-you’ve never been interested in-?”

Another easy shrug, “Not sure if I’m interested in men. But I sure as shit am interested in you. Always have been.”

Link really thinks he should sit back down. Sit back down or fall down. Just…down…

His hands feels shaky and wild as they find the arms of the chair, as he lowers himself back into, as he breathes, “You’re interested in-in-in-?”

Link’s head moves around as if looking for someone else, because saying ‘in me’ (and the ‘me’ being Link himself) doesn’t seem at all possible.

Rhett, seeming to finally take pity on him, sighs, “When I say ‘I’m interested in you’, I’m not declaring some secret, unrequited, suppressed feelings for you, man. I’m saying you’re my friend, I find you interesting, and I ain’t entirely opposed to seeing if there could be more to it,” he unlaces his fingers to wave between them, “To us,” then he changes one of his hands into the two fingers to motion between their eyes, “To _this_.”

“…this…” is all Link can manage. It comes out faint and whispery. He’s still pretty convinced he died. Probably happened on the ride here. Damn twisty backroads.

“…’course if you’re not interested,” Rhett sucks his teeth, “Or chicken…”

Link snaps back to life right quick. He’s _alive_. He’s alive and in his body and his ears are burning, his heart pounding, his cheeks bright red as his blood pressure rises, “I’m _not_ chicken!”

Rhett just eyes him balefully and-and the utter gall of it! Of those eyes looking at him in this fashion and Link puffs up, “I’m not! I’M a modern man, dang it! I-I’m not afraid to-to-!”

He runs a hand through his thick (now completely) silver hair and tugs it hard, “It’s just-? It’s _crazy_! It’s _insane_! It’s-it’s-it’s-!”

He’s stuttering all over himself, all the things he wants to say not coming out of his mouth quickly enough and he just points at Rhett accusingly, “It’ll ruin our friendship and be all kindas awkward and-!”

Rhett leans back in his chair, crosses his arms again and stretches out his ridiculously long, giraffe-like legs, “You know…we drank one another’s urine.”

Link stalls at that.

“Once upon a time.”

Link is still stopped. Enough that Rhett just breathes in and looks off to one side, “Messed around with one another’s feet. Did Mama Bird/Baby Bird. Cuddled with cockroaches.”

“Thought you said I had the better memory.”

“’Bout some things,” Rhett offers with a small grin, “My point is – we’ve done much crazier things. Only difference this time would be that it’s personal and it’s not for an audience.”

Link digests that, chews on it. He rolls it over and over again in his mind. Rhett seems to be waiting for him to answer – one way or another and when it becomes obvious that no real answer is forth coming, he lets out another sigh and rises up, wincing some.

Link would bet it’s due to his lower back twinging, because sitting long periods of time now just does that to him. Link knows, because it does it to him too.

Rhett puts his hands in his pockets and offers another blithe shrug, “Look, don’t worry about it. I don’t blame you if you’re-”

“Okay.”

Link’s eyes are downcast. They went in that direction when he knew his final answer. He wants to raise his head. He wants to know who said it, that quiet word. So quiet as to almost be inaudible.

And shy.

Quiet, shy…unreal.

And he knows _he_ said it. Knows it came from his mouth. And he feels it when Rhett gets closer to him, feels the heat of his friend and he can just make him out of his peripheral vision as he repeats just as quietly, just as shy, “Okay?”

Link licks his lips and looks up. He looks up into his friend’s kind eyes and feels his head wobbling on his neck as he nods, “Okay. Yeah. I…I guess it’s…it’s worth trying…”

“So,” Rhett’s lips tug up in one corner, a teasing sort of smirk, “You _are_ courting me?”

Link shoves out at him and the two laugh. But the fact still remains. Link has just agreed to go out with Rhett. Out _out_. As in a date, as in…

…and Link knows, eventually, the panic will return. But for now? For now, it’s nice to just be with his friend and laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

There are a total of twelve shirts spread out on the bed.

Link eyeballs each of them while he idly plays with his wedding ring. Twelve shirts. Each one not that different from the last. They’re all in his basic style. Some are plaid, some are plain, some are faded, some are just…bizarre. He owns more than twelve shirts, but these are the twelve he’s pared it down to from the others and that alone took him about, oh, three hours? Who’s counting?

Twelve shirts…

They all lie there, each taunting him worse than the last, each seeming to say ‘Rhett’s already seen you in this’ as well as ‘why do you care?’ and he doesn’t know why he cares and he doesn’t _want_ to care, yet here he is…deliberating on which out of these twelve he should wear, because whichever one he chooses to wear will be the one he wears to his…to their…?

He can’t even think it.

He groans and rubs at his face and walks over towards his bedroom dresser. He looks in the mirror and the man who stares back at him is a pale, unrecognizable shadow. That man is himself. Charles Lincoln Neal III. The third. He’s a _third_. And he named his son a _fourth_ and Jesus, why did he do that? Why did he keep the tradition of Charles Lincoln Neal alive? He should’ve ended it with himself, the utmost tragedy of all the Charles Lincoln Neals.

…at least _his_ Lincoln is doing better. Not that that’s hard to do, because, again, he’s looking right into the hollow eyes of a ghost. His hair is starkly silver. No more salt and pepper. Just salt. He has a five o’clock shadow and lines (wrinkles) around his mouth – granted, he earned those from laughing and who caused most of that laughter? Why, the very idiot who he’s agreed to see tonight. The one who’s prompted him to pull out twelve shirts to contemplate which one is the best and what he should really do is focus on his own eyes.

Blue eyes that are so empty. So…stilled. Like Cape Fear photographed from the right distance – blank and unassuming and dangerous. Filled to the depths with problems no one should dive into. There are rings under them too – dark, sleepless bags that are a combination of age and of…well…

Link twists on the ring so hard it hurts. He won’t take it off. Not ever. Yet here he is…shirts spread out on his bed. But he’s only going to see Rhett. It’s not as if he’s going to marry the man. Heck, he doesn’t even know exactly what this is. Sure, they’re _calling_ it a ‘date’ but it’s also _not_ a date, because they’re not…this isn’t a _romantic_ thing, this is just…

Link looks away from the shadow of himself because he doesn’t know what it is and he’s so close to a nervous breakdown that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Lord, he’s too _old_ for a nervous breakdown. He’s too _old_ for a date. He’s too _old_ to quibble over which shirt to wear to see his friggin’ best friend. He’s just…he’s old.

He made it to his sixties (much to his own surprise and horror) and he should just be completely sanguine. Not the same kind of muddled mess he was in his twenties…heck, even his forties. He can recall being on their show, much more settled and yet still a jangle of wacky nerves or quirks and oddities and he’d thought – ridiculously, it seems – that when he reached this age he’d finally be settled.

That, in his sixties, he’d know the meaning of life and everything and he’d be a full grown senior and have all the answers. Turns out he’s still as lost then as he is now. Maybe that’s because Christy’s gone and maybe that’s just because that’s how it always is and isn’t that horrifying? The idea that you’ll never reach an age where you’ll just… _know_.

Once upon a time he feared getting old and now that he is, he fears the fact that it hasn’t given him even a modicum of comfort, of certainty. If only he now felt comfortable in his own skin, if only now he just knew exactly who he was, through and through, maybe he’d be alright. But he doesn’t know who he is. Because the person he thought he was would have never agreed to this ludicrous ‘date’ idea.

Just as he’s truly contemplating tossing all the shirts aside and throwing himself upon on the bed to try and fall asleep or cry or something else overly dramatic, he hears sounds downstairs, hears his son call up, “Dad? You here?”

“Lando?” he calls back and gets a laugh, “The one and only! Not alone, though. I’ve got-!”

He doesn’t even get to finish before his words are covered over with the thunderous sounds of little feet running up the stairs. Link turns to the door as a wild bundle of long, tangled hair and tiny limbs comes barging in, “Grandpa!”

Link bends down, keeping his wince internal (damned aching joints) as he gathers a young girl into his embrace, “Well, well- if it isn’t my little Rey of sunshine!”

He kisses his granddaughter’s cheek and she giggles happily, “Hi, Grandpa!”

“‘Hi’ yourself, Rey – how’re you doin’ this good mythical morn?”

Another round of pure childish giggles as she chews on the back of one of her hands, a habit she’s had since she was an infant and has yet to break, “Good.”

“Good, huh?” he balances her as best as he can, not wanting to put too much weight on one hip or the other (considering they aren’t as good as they used to be), “You got any kisses for your Pappy?”

Obediently she gives one to his cheek and he chuckles even as a weary looking Lando walks in, “Dad, you’ve got to cut it out with the ‘Pappy’ crap, alright?”

Link eyes him, “Why?”

“‘Cause it makes me feel old, alright,” he motions to Rey who starts to scramble down and Link does his best to aid her, aware that she won’t know any better if she hurts him in her eagerness to get down. Once she’s on her feet she rushes over to the bed, eyeing his shirts even as he answers his middle child, “Hate to break it to you, Lando – but you _are_ in your thirties. And you’ve got another lil’ gremlin on the way. Speaking of; Shelly down in the car?”

“No, out with friends,” Lando sighs and shakes his head, “Eight months pregnant, but eager for some girl time. Pretty sure our credit card is getting a work-out today. But she deserves it and I was happy to have some one on one time with Rey.”

“Not _too_ one on one, I take,” Link teases, “What with you bein’ here.”

“Still one on one,” Lando disagrees, “Seeing you is part of the fun.”

“That right?" Link asks, but it’s clear he’s happy to hear it, even as Rey hops up on to the bed and grabs a button up white shirt to wave at him, “What’s this?”

Link looks at the shirt and feels himself flush. He prays it’s not visible as he clears his throat and answers, “Just a shirt, sweet pea.”

She looks around at the collection, “Lots of shirts.”

“Yeeeeah…” Link drags out longer than he would like and he turns back to Lando; because somehow that’s easier than his granddaughter’s open, innocent expression, “Just-? Ah-? Going through some things…”

“Look at this one!” Rey chirps and holds up a tight light blue number, “It’s so small!”

“It’s-?” a very bizarre laugh leaves Link at that and the fact he doesn’t snatch the shirt away from her in overwhelming embarrassment is impressive, “Yeah, Rey, honey it’s - just y’know an old shirt and I-!”

“Why’re you going through them, Grandpa?” Rey asks sweetly, nothing but the open artlessness of a child about her, “Are you looking for one to wear?”

Link doesn’t know why he answers so honestly, “Matter of fact; I am, sweetheart.”

“But you’re wearing one already,” is Rey’s observation, little face scrunched up in confusion and for some reason Link’s mouth continues its random run on truth, “It’s for later.”

“Why? What’s later?”

And this is where Link’s drawn himself into a corner. His mouth opens and closes and hey, if he hadn’t been so damned forthright earlier, maybe he wouldn’t _be_ in this mess. Lando, not a fool, is clearly suspicious, “Yeah, Dad. What’s happening later?”

Link’s mouth twists from side to side as if he’s sucking on something sour. Well. His kids will hear soon enough. Besides, maybe this will get Lily off his back. He turns to Lando and does his best to throw his shoulder’s back because, after all, he’s the parent, Lando the child, “If you must know, I’m going out.”

Lando’s eyes grow wide, “Out?”

And then at Link’s nod he asks, “ _Out_ out?”

“Yes, son,” Link grumbles because honestly, between him and Lily, they act as if he’s some isolated cave dweller who’s never thought to go out and see the light of day. He’s been _out_. Sure, not on a date _,_ but they’re acting as if he hasn’t even done the bare minimum. He goes _out_. He goes to the grocery store, the gas station, to visit them – he goes out, dagnabbit!

Rey looks at him with open wonder, “Where?”

Link turns his attention to her and now finds it’s easier to address her than his own son, “Just to see a friend, baby.”

“Rhett?” she asks and of course she knows Rhett. They’ve met a few times. Just like Link’s met Rhett’s grandkids. It’s not that unusual or strange. And yet Link can feel Lando’s eyes burning into him as he answers softly, “That’s right, Rey. I’m going to see Uncle Rhett.”

“Grandpa Rhett,” she corrects and it’s at this that Link’s head swings to Lando and Lando, for his part, looks a little sheepish, “Yeah, um… _I_ called him Uncle Rhett a couple of times growing up, but, mean…it never _did_ seem to fit him. And I just thought Rey calling him that was odd, so-?”

“So you thought Grandpa was better?!”

“Aw heck, she’s like his grandpa too,” Lando returns, “Brings her gifts on her birthday, Christmas…”

“Because he’s a family friend,” Link volleys back and he gets a scoff for his trouble. His own son – scoffing at him. Lando shakes his head, “Family friends drop by once in a blue moon. Not every single holiday. And, if you want to honest, Dad - it’s more than that even.”

Now it’s Link’s turn to scoff, but Lando continues to argue his point, “The way _I_ remember it, Rhett dropped by almost every day of the week when I was growing up. I mean, sometimes he’d have his family with him, but not always and when he wasn’t here, _you_ were there,” Link keeps sputtering and trying to interrupt but Lando overrides him, voice rising slightly in order to do so, “And that’s what Shepard told me _he_ remembers.”

The plan had been to point out that the reason Link and Rhett were always with one another or at one another’s places was because of work, but once Lando drops the last tidbit, Link can’t help but ask, “Since when have you and Shepard been talking?”

Lando blows a huge raspberry, “I dunno – since the moment you two kept repeatedly slapping us together? Trying to make us best friends since birth? We might not be _that_ exactly, but we _do_ talk…guy’s practically my brother…”

“That’s what Rhett is to me!”

Lando just eyes him and gives a dry, “Sure, Dad” and Link swears, if Rey wasn’t here…

But she _is_ here and she seems completely nonplussed as to their conversation. Her little head jumps back and forth between them as they banter and once she decides it’s just silly grown up talk she chooses to focus on what’s important, “I’ll help! I’ll pick out the best shirt for your playdate with Rhett!”

Link just stares at her, startled by her word choice while she begins fussing over each shirt, picking one up at a time and eyeballing it before tossing it aside and moving on to the next. Link licks his lips and mouths ‘playdate’ even as Lando looks at him cagily, his hands twitching, “Um…come to think of that. Have you, ah, spoken to Lily lately or-?”

That hastily asked question allows Link to level his son with a look that speaks volumes. No matter what your age, no matter what your child’s age – that look easily pinpoints the hierarchy. Lando suddenly feels as if he’s Rey’s age again, as if he’s done something bad and is in huge trouble. Still, he swallows thickly and valiantly presses on, “So, is that a ‘yes’ or-?”

“It’s a ‘yes’,” Link growls and waves to the bed, “Or do you not see the problem your daughter is currently trying to solve?”

“…so…you-? You asked him out?”

It’s actually rather admirable that Lando asks, considering ‘the look’ is still being leveled at him. Hard. Link wants to keep it up, but then Rey turns and replies succinctly, “Daddy, he already answered that.”

Lando looks to her, “What?”

“Grandpa,” she says as if he’s silly to even ask, “He said he’s going out with Rhett.”

Lando swings his gaze to Link, who just shrugs, his hands dipping into his pockets, “She’s right, you know. I _did_ tell you that.”

“Yeah, but, ah…” Lando moves away from Rey, who’s returned her attention to her task, and edges closer to his father, avoiding his eyes and scratching behind one ear, “…I was wondering if you asked him out as in, ah, as in-?”

“As in a _date_?” Link makes sure to layer as much emphasis into the last word that he can. Enough to make sure Lando knows, without a doubt, that yes, he _did_ talk to Lily and yes, he _did_ ask Rhett out on a date. Once that seems to sink in, Lando rocks back on his heels and chews the inside of one cheek before answering softly, “Good.”

“Good?” Link repeats, a cross between skepticism and censure. Lando seems to finally come to grips with the idea of looking directly at his father during this difficult conversation, “Yeah, I’m glad Lily…I mean, y’know, she’s the eldest and…heck, I’ll admit it, the bravest of us to finally just-!”

“She shouldn’t have,” Link snaps sharply, “And neither should you. But,” he shakes his head and waves an impatient hand out, “You know, it-it got all up in my head and then I was talkin’ with Rhett and the next thing _I_ know…”

Lando, apparently not giving much credence to his father’s words, instead mutters to himself, “Gotta make sure I call Shepard later, let him know.”

This grabs Link’s attention and he points a stern finger in his son’s face, “You will do no such thing, Lando James Neal!”

“…the full name? Really?” Lando’s amusement at this only serves to make Link more aggravated, “If Rhett wants to speak to his son about this-this insanity, that’s up to him. But I won’t have you-!”

“Oh, please,” Lando laughs, “If Rhett hasn’t told him by now, then Lily will beat him to it. I don’t know if you told her you took her up on her advice, but I have to tell you - right now, in all honesty – that if _I_ don’t tell her now that _I_ know – she _will_ kill me. She’ll _kill_ me, Dad. And they’ll never find my body, so, I mean, for the sake of my children, I gotta! 'Sides, Shepard’s going to hear it from one of us sooner or later.”

Lando pulls out his phone and fiddles with it and Link has no doubt he’s either texting Shepard or Lily or both as he mumbles under his breath, “Not to mention I’ve won the bet.”

“B-?" Link can barely believe what he’s just heard, “Bet? Did you just say ‘bet’? What bet?”

“The one Shep and me have had since we were kids,” Lando chuckles, still typing, “That you and Rhett would date eventually. He had you two going in a ‘Big Love’ kind of direction, but with sister husbands or brother husbands or whatever…if you remember that show, which I’ll bet you don’t – little too inappropriate and retro, which is why we watched it at Garrett Falls house on a couple of sleepovers because, hey, it also had boobs – but; movin’ on – Shep always banked on _that_ and _I_ banked on old age and well, now we see who the winner is, so…I got fifty bucks coming my way.”

Everything about that speech, ironically, leaves Link speechless. Lando finishes his typing just as Link manages weakly, “…never _did_ approve of Garrett…thought he was a hoodlum.”

“Yeah, he was,” Lando confesses with a razor sharp grin, “But his parents let him watch whatever he wanted.”

Link grumbles ‘bad influence’ even as Lando sighs, “Dad, Shep and me? We were in the same boat. Having to sit between you and Rhett on the show – watching you two flirt back and forth non-stop-”

“We weren’t flirting! We were working!” Link cries with some outrage but, much like Lily, Rhett, and everyone else in his life it seems, Lando just keeps on as if he hasn’t spoken, “-it was weird. When I was really young, I didn’t understand it at all, but Shep, being older, brought me up to speed and it was pretty clear that’s what was going on. For goodness’ sake, you had a _house_ together.”

“The creative house?” the question comes out in a strangled way that reminds Link (unfortunately) of an old lady clutching at her pearls, “That was also for work! Son, I think you’re confusing work for something else.”

Lando starts shaking his head even before Link is done, “No, no, Dad. I think _you_ are confusing everything else for something it’s not. You and Rhett are more than friends, more than brothers, and that. Is. Fine. It was fine with Mom, it’s fine with Lily, and it’s fine with me. Lincoln? Probably not an issue either, but he’s always been the kind to be off in his own world and, obviously, it is not a problem for my kid.”

He waves out at Rey, but Link is just-! He’s still focused on Lando and he’s-! He’s livid. How can Lando say these things? Think these things? And to mention his mother, to mention Christy…

Yes, Link asked Rhett out – but if anything it’s more to call everyone’s bluff on this absurd idea and Christy, Christy would have not been-?! She didn’t think-?! But then...maybe she did? Link’s anger dies, a hot fire banked by a cold wind at the thought. Did his wife…did she think there was more going on between Rhett and Link then there was? Did she think Link loved Rhett more or did she think-?

They never talked about it.

…no, that’s not true. Christy had tried to talk about it.

Once.

But Link…

He rubs at his face, pushing his hands up under his glasses, pressing hard at his eyelids, because it’s not something he likes to think about. It’s not something he likes to talk about. He did his best with Christy. He trusted her enough, loved her enough, to try. But even she couldn’t get it all out of him. Because it can’t come out. It has to stay buried. All of it.

It just has to.

…and yet he’s agreed to this date. He’s agreed to play around with something he has no right to play around with. Like pulling a pin on a grenade to see if you can get it back in in the nick of time. Jesus…

“This one!”

The little shout is sparkly sugar and Link lowers his hands. Any tears he might have had are pushed away. Any anger, sadness, shame – they’re all lost in the sunny glow of his granddaughter’s precious smile as she holds up a red and blue plaid shirt and scrambles down, running up to him to pushes it up in his direction, “This one, this one, Grandpa!”

Link takes it from her and nods approvingly, “You’re right, sweetie, this is the best one hands down!”

“And you’ll wear it?” she asks as she swings from side to side, clearly worried he’ll say ‘no’, but he just bends down (knees be damned) and smiles at her, “You betcha, Rey. I’ll wear it.”

Rey wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him hard, her voice full of joy, “I just know Rhett will love it!”

“I’m sure he will.”

Rey then eases closer and whispers against his ear, “I love you, Grandpa!” and punctuates it with a kiss there. Link breathes her in, thankful beyond reason for this little treasure in his arms, “I love you too, Rey.”

“Hey!” Lando cries with mock indignation, “No love for me?”

Rey giggles and releases Link to run to her father, who she also hugs and kisses, “Silly, Daddy!”

“Silly Rey-Rey,” Lando returns and he looks at his father with some worry, “Look, Dad…I didn’t mean-“

Link motions outwards with both hands, “Nah, nah – just…just forget about it, Lando. I know. I know you love me. You and your sister. Know you both just…just worry about me.”

Lando looks around the room, “We do, Dad. This place,” he sighs sadly, “Still think you should’ve moved after-”

“No,” Link’s tone is firm, “No, Lando. This was _our_ house. You know that.”

Lando doesn’t argue further, instead he changes the subject to them getting a bite to eat in the kitchen and Link agrees to it. He agrees to it even as he tosses the shirt over his shoulder. The shirt Rey chose and Link thinks, very privately to himself, that she really did make the best choice. Because it’s one he couldn’t make himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Link sits in his car outside of Rhett’s cabin and fiddles with his steering wheel.

It’s late in the afternoon. The sun is starting its descent, bathing everything in a calming golden glow that highlights the brown bark of the tall trees encircling the place, the hint of freshly green plants sprouting up from the dark earth of the woods. Even rocks seem more starkly visible, small specks of grey and slate blue and Link is only noticing this because he’s been sitting here for a while now.

Sitting here and doing his level best not to freak out. One way to do that? Zero in on the random, meaningless things. Patches of rusty pine needles rest in random, haphazard circles on the ground. Bunches of dropped pinecones too and he breathes in deep. He’s wearing the shirt Rey chose as well as, what Lando called, his ‘age inappropriate skinny jeans’. 

…they’re not age inappropriate – they’re just _his_. He likes the feel of them. They’re a comfortable, well-worn black pair he’s had for ages and he’ll be damned if he stops wearing them now just because he’s no longer in front of a camera.

What’s he supposed to wear now? Sweatpants? Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you have to give up the things you love. It doesn’t mean he has to shop in some sixties and up designated area of a department store.

Although, to be fair, it was clear Lando had just been teasing. Not outright saying anything negative. It was just the way Link took it, because he’s touchy, because he’s freaking out over something he knows he shouldn’t be freaking out over.

This is just a date. A date with a man. A date with Rhett and, in a way, the fact that it’s not just _any_ man, the fact that it’s Rhett, adds more weight to this.

Or maybe less.

Link doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s been slapping and smacking his steering wheel like a drum set for too long now and he’s pretty sure Rhett didn’t hear him pull up this time, because he’s had yet to show his face. Or maybe he did hear and he’s just waiting patiently inside and none of this is going to happen if Link doesn’t hurry up and get off his ass.

Letting out a hefty exhale, Link nods to himself and grabs the small bundle on the passenger seat, determined to see this through one way or another.

As he walks up to the door, he can practically hear Christy’s voice in his head. Hear that conversation from so, so long ago. The conversation he does his best to keep buried deep in his memories.

 _Link_ , _we_ _need_ _to_ _talk_.

He can hear his footsteps echoing as he walks across the porch.

_Honey…I love you. You know that; don’t you?_

His hand rises, ready to knock.

_This won’t change anything. Not ever._

It hangs there.

_But…I think you need to face this. Accept this about yourself._

Link chews on his top lip, then the bottom.

_There’s nothing wrong with it. Nothing to be ashamed of._

The hand starts to waver, lower.

_I love you, baby. Honestly, it's okay if you’re-_

“I’m not,” he chokes out and it’s what he said then, what he’s saying right now. Quiet and soft and beneath his breath with sheer desperation.

It’s as if he’s right back in that moment of time, as if he’s talking to her this very instant. Talking about it all over again. Although…they hadn’t _really_ talked about it. 

Christy had tried to talk to him about it. Tried, and he’d blown her off. They never really fought – at least, not like that. But that night…they’d fought. Or he had. Because it’s something he’s been fighting his whole life and for her to be okay with it, to be so sweet and so accepting and so…

For some reason, he couldn’t bear it. Link couldn’t bear the idea of someone being so understanding. Especially not his wife. No one is supposed to know. Not Rhett, not Christy – no one.

It’s something Link carries close to himself. It’s his sin, his burden to bear. And, when sensed, when poked at by someone – anyone – he reacts with blind anger. He lashes out with a sharpness so unlike himself that it’s as if he's possessed.

Link stands here, in front of Rhett’s doorway, hand half raised and questions what in the sam hill he’s doing, because he’s right on the razor’s edge of it. If he does this, if he goes through with this – doesn’t that expose everything?

Doesn’t that show _everyone_? Doesn’t that let them in on his little secret? His shame? They’ve all talked about it oh, so casually, but here he is…right on the abyss and-!

The door opens.

Rhett is standing there, wearing a dark blue button up and jeans and, seeing Link, he leans against one side of the doorframe, “Howdy, stranger.”

And at those words, all of the anxiety just melts out of Link as he sighs, “Shut up.”

Rhett chuckles and moves back so Link can enter. The inside of the cabin is very much a woodman’s paradise. Everything is dark blacks and hunter greens, masculine in the chosen décor – wooden furniture, brick fireplace, a variety of artwork that speaks to fishing and the wilderness.

It’s nothing at all like the home Rhett shared with Jessie and the kids and Link has always figured that’s the point. He never could imagine that – reinventing yourself so completely.

But Rhett did it. He made it work. Link had helped his friend through it as best he could, but honestly, Rhett had taken most everything in stride. Yes, there had been tears and heartache and long nights lamenting the end of a marriage, but overall, Rhett overcame it. 

Jessie too and it’s strange – their relationship may have ended, but their partnership never has. They still speak often, are fond of one another – Link is a witness to that. They just aren’t together anymore. At least not romantically and the idea that that’s what he’s potentially here for is…

“What’s that?”

Link blinks and sees Rhett is pointing at the little bundle in his right hand. His lips quirk as he feels the tips of his ears begin to burn, “Um, it’s for you.”

He holds out it out and Rhett takes it with a curious expression. Until he sees what it is. Then he bursts into guffaws (honestly, when he ‘ha ha ha’s' like this there’s no other word for it), “Yellow eye beans?”

“Yeah, had a bag of ‘em. Don’t remember getting them, but it was Rey’s idea.”

“Rey,” Rhett looks at him with an eyebrow raised, “Your granddaughter?”

Link nods, “Yeah, she insisted. Said I had to bring you a gift for our ‘playdate’.”

The sly, tender smile that steals over Rhett’s face makes the heat on the tip of Link’s ears expand downwards, no doubt coloring his cheeks, “That what we’re calling it?”

“It’s what she called it,” Link amends, “Her and Lando came to visit and it…sort of came up…”

Rhett turns the bag over in his hands and, taped to the front of the bag, is a small purple blossom. One he carefully removes, “And this?”

Link knows for a fact now that he’s blushing as he scratches his left cheek (as if that’ll abate it somehow), “Rey again. Said I should bring flowers. This was the compromise. She picked it from one of the bushes outside.”

The corners of Rhett’s eyes crinkle with the unending smile he carries, as he eases the little flower up behind one ear. Once assured what little of the stem is adhering to his silver hair, he turns the bag over this way and that, weighing it in his palm before he turns to Link, “You’ll have to thank her for me.”

“I mean…I helped,” Link wishes he didn’t sound so eager for some recognition, but it is what it is and when Rhett turns his smile on him, Link finds himself very happy he did, “Thanks, brother.”

He swallows noisily, eyes skirting downwards as he hums, “You’re welcome.”

Rhett takes the bag into his minute kitchen and places it on one of the wooden countertops, “Maybe I’ll make this for us later. Do a better job than I did last time.”

This catches Link’s attention, “Last time?”

Rhett nods, “Remember? I made this same type of bean for you before.”

Link draws out a slow ‘oh yeah’ because it does slowly come to him. They had shot a video before going to a pitch meeting for Bleak Creek (which sadly had not taken off) and Rhett had made him beans in a slow cooker.

The taste had been fine, albeit nothing revolutionary; but shooting the video had been fun and the thought Rhett had put into it had been touching.

He’d wanted to share some of himself with Link and Link always appreciated that. All things considered, they’d both done that with one another countless times.

Shared parts of themselves, stepped into one another’s respective shoes. There was little between them that was unknown or mysterious and with that in mind, Link could easily say that this whole ‘date’ idea is one of the only things that's remained unexplored.

…and it should probably remain that way.

Yet here he is, tempting fate.

Rhett, as if sensing that, speaks up, “So, what’s the plan for this thing? Dinner and a movie?”

Link shakes his head, “Nothing so esoteric.”

“‘Esoteric’? You been watching documentaries again?”

“Y’know, it’s funny you should ask – I just got on Lily recently about her vocabulary and she said she might’ve gotten it from her ex, Trish, but maybe it was me?” Link shakes his head to himself even as he cheekily adds, “I can be very…verbose.”

Rhett rolls his eyes, “Quit showin’ off and show me what you’ve got planned.”

“Little less conversation, a little more action?” Link grins and Rhett nods as they head outside. Once out, Link feels a little bashful as he rocks on his heels and murmurs, “Well, I-I have an idea, but…you might not like it.”

“Doubt that,” Rhett reassures him and Link looks around the woods, “Okay, but it’s…I mean, it’s more a young man’s game, so…it might not be the best-?”

“Get to the point, Neal.”

Bolstered enough, Link says simply, “Which direction should we go?”

It takes Rhett a moment and then he offers another one of those heart-stopping smiles, “You’re talking about what we did as kids? Go explorin’? Get lost?”

“Maybe not lost,” Link amends, “That one we’re definitely too old for. But…thought it might be fun. I don’t know. Maybe not, maybe it’s stupid, maybe-!”

“Link,” Rhett cuts off his worried diatribe, green eyes warm, “It’s perfect.”

The rush in his pulse, the skip of his heart…Link does his best to ignore both as he nods, speechless. Rhett’s eyes narrow and he scans the horizon. Finally he points off in one direction and says firmly, “That way.”

And that way they go.

+

The walk through the woods around Rhett’s cabin is a pleasant one.

They go at it at a slow, meandering pace (their bodies not what they used to be) but it’s not as if it’s impossible for them to traverse the grounds, the path they take mostly level. They talk about the things they normally do, joke and laugh and tease one another, and it’s pretty much no different from any other late afternoon they’ve spent together. So much so that Link wonders what he was even worried about to begin with.

If this is them on a ‘date’ he doesn’t really see how it’s any different from any other time they’ve been together. Maybe he can do this, maybe he’s been fretting over nothing. But as the evening gets darker and they take a turn back to Rhett’s, it occurs to Link that most dates tend to have…well, _more_ to them.

And by more, that means physical contact. Not that he and Rhett have never shared that before…hugged, held hands – any of that. They’ve done that sort of thing in spades. They’ve even cuddled, slept in the same bed…

But kissing…that is definitely something they have never, ever done.

It’s a silly thing to be so anxious about. After all, nothing says they _have_ to kiss. Heck, Link didn’t kiss Christy for the longest time. He certainly didn’t kiss her on their first date. Why should this date with Rhett be any different?

 _You know why_ , an insidious voice whispers from deep inside his subconscious and oh, _that_ voice. It’s one he hasn’t heard in a very, very long time. Mainly because he’s done so much to block it out. Block it out while not mentioning it to others. Therapy, meditation, Christy herself…the voice has been poked at before, prodded. Various methods of healing have tried to crack through the bars of the prison he’s trapped it inside.

But he hasn’t let it out. Hasn’t faced it. Because he’s afraid to and it’s humiliating – being so terrified of something so many others have accepted about themselves. But he can’t. He just _can’t_. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he-!

“Link?”

He turns to Rhett and sees his friend eyeing him with worry.

 _Not can’t_ , the voice hisses, _won’t_.

Jesus…Link hates, _hates_ , when the voice is right.

Still, he offers a vague, ‘hmm?’, and Rhett seems cautious, “Where’d you go, pal?”

Link blinks, “Nowhere.”

“Uh huh,” Rhett sounds completely unconvinced, but he doesn’t push. Rhett’s always been good about that. He almost always recognizes the myriad of moods Link has and, when it’s right to push, he does. When it isn’t? When it isn’t, he wisely (and kindly) changes the subject, “It’s starting to get dark.”

“I can see that;” Link states dryly, but with a smile, even as he pushes his glasses up, “Old eyes notwithstanding, my vision isn’t _that_ bad.”

It’s tempting to add the ‘yet’ but he holds it at bay, because why point out the obvious? Rhett, however, seems to have no trouble as he notes sagely, “Might be best you stay here for the night.”

Link’s heart skips and trips, tumbling down his ribcage to settle in his belly with the flock of butterflies that have suddenly taken up residence there, “Wh-why?”

“Drivin’ at night,” Rhett lifts one shoulder and lets it drop, “It’s a hassle.”

That’s his nice way of saying that, while Link’s vision isn’t completely shot, there has been some…degradation with time. Which is fair. Driving in the dark has become one of Link’s least favorite activities. When you’re young and the world lies at your feet, driving at night is an extreme pleasure. When you’re starting to wind down? Yeah, not so great – nowhere near as much fun. Mainly just nerve wracking.

And Link’s nerves are wracked enough. Albeit staying here overnight will probably not help the situation, but still – which is more life threatening? Honestly? Link doesn’t know and he chews on his bottom lip even as Rhett smirks, “You _do_ recall I got guest bedrooms, don’t you? The ones the kids use when they visit? Ain’t like I’m planning on one of those…what’d the crew used ta call ‘em? Had something to do with fan fiction…”

“People still write those?”

“Don’t see why not,” Rhett frowns, looking troubled, “What the heck was it called? Some kinda writing style or…or writing scenario featuring only one bed. What was it? Ah, killin’ me not remembering. It’s right on the tip of my tongue…”

Link scratches at his chin, “It certainly ain’t coming to me.”

“Was it a troop? A trip?”

“…think the word was ‘trope’,” Link snaps his fingers, “Yeah, yup, that was it.”

They both chuckle and it’s not hard for either of them to recall the crew. If there’s one thing they miss about shooting the show, it’s the Mythical crew.

Working with them had exposed both Link and Rhett to a variety of different subjects. Of course, their children did that as well, but – in some ways – some of the crew were _like_ their children or their cousins, their half siblings…

The Mythical crew had been like a large, sprawling family. One that helped them learn and grow, that introduced them to new things. One of those things being fan fiction and Link can still recall filming an episode about that, reading aloud the crazy things fans had written about him and Rhett.

…in fact, he’d won that particular challenge.

 _Wonder why_ , the voice jeers and he waves at it as if it’s honestly there, some invisible gnat, even as he turns his attention back to Rhett, “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll stay the night. Why not? Seem to recall you offering me something ta eat…”

“True enough,” Rhett says as the two go inside. While Rhett initially offered beans, he ends up surprising Link with cereal, although he does stick to the beans himself because – why not? They are his favorite. They each eat their preferred meal while lounging on the comfy couch Rhett purchased from some thrift store an age ago, the television before them playing what is now considered a ‘classic’ film.

“How is ‘Dodgeball’ considered a classic?” Link asks with a sigh, “And why are we watching it?”

“I don’t know, brother. ‘Cause that’s what came up on the classic films stream?”

“…but ‘Dodgeball’?”

“I’m not _agreeing_ with it,” Rhett stresses, “But-? Maybe ‘cause they remade it this past year?”

“But no one even _liked_ that,” Link argues, “Same with the Lord of the Rings remakes or the Harry Potter remakes or-?”

“Yeah, the remake thing really _did_ get out of control,” his friend admits, “Much, much worse than people ever thought it would…”

“Remember when they _finally_ made ‘House of Leaves’ into a movie and then remade it like, a _year_ later?”

Rhett nods, “Yeah, that was…strange.”

“Not as strange as when they made that live action Ren and Stimpy film,” Link chuckles and Rhett just laughs because, well, it’s impossible not to laugh remembering _that_. Rhett changes the channel and eventually they find a good nature documentary to listen to. The evening is yawning on and Link hates to admit he gets tired a lot earlier now than he used to.

It used to be he wouldn’t turn in until the wee hours of the morning. Now? Once it starts to push a little past nine o’clock in the evening he starts to find himself wanting to turn in. And that’s even with the copious naps he now takes during the day and how is it you sleep as much as when you’re elderly as when you’re an infant? Not that _he’s_ elderly, he’s…okay, well, maybe he _is_ and then Rhett clears his throat, “You tuning out again?”

“Nah, just thinkin’,” Link sighs, “Thinkin’ about being old…”

Rhett just leans back into the cushions, “Could be older.”

“True.”

“And we both still got all our teeth,” he runs a hand through his hair and then, casually, removes the little tie holding parts of it back, allowing it all to fall in a white wave, “All our hair…”

Link runs a hand along his own hairline, “Not receding too much, is it?”

“Not at all, brother. Me?”

“Eh, you’re a month or two away from plugs…”

“Smart ass,” Rhett grumbles affectionately and, looking at him now, his hair all loose, Link finds himself murmuring quietly, “You look good.”

This garners him Rhett’s full attention. The man sits up and turns to look directly at him and his eyes…

When Rhett looks at you – _really_ looks at you – you can’t help but feel…special. Noteworthy. It’s as if his gaze is an actual caress and Link can feel his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, forces himself to break the eye contact and look down, “I mean…you’ve always…”

He licks his lips and he wants to fidget, he wants to do something (anything) to ease the odd tension that’s surfaced. Although it has done the trick in waking him up. He feels quite alert now, on variable tenterhooks, as Rhett rumbles, “You too.”

Link compresses his lips together in a tight line and he can still _feel_ Rhett’s eyes on him. Can see the color clear in his mind and they stand out better now against the lighter hue of his hair, “Tonight was…also good.”

The end of that comes out lame and, for whatever reason, Link can’t seem to stop being lame as he tacks on, “…the-the date, I mean. It…was…good.”

The way it comes out haltingly, as if weighted, just adds to Link’s discomfort. His right leg has finally given up the ghost and is jiggling about, his hands shaky, palms sweaty and god, he takes it back. He _is_ elderly and elderly people do not do this. They do not get all nervous and jittery like a teenager on their first date!

This is his-? Well, he’s not sure _which_ number date this is in his lifetime, but he’s _dated_ and while this date _is_ with Rhett, it’s not any reason to-!

“Link…” There’s no command in it, no pull, but the sound of it – it makes Link finally turn his head up to look at him again, to meet his eyes head on. Rhett looks so damned patient and, as Link so eloquently put it, _good_ , “…thinkin’ now might be a good time to do what you wanted to do in the first place.”

“What I-?”

A nod, “When you asked me out – you jumped right to the kissin’, so, it might be time to-?”

“I did not!” Link interrupts as if startled by this revelation, “I just-! I pointed out how, how, how-!” nervousness makes him stumble all over himself as he tries to speak, “How it wasn’t a question you needed answered! How you’d never thought about it and, y’know, back when we sorta talked about it, back on Good Mythical Morning, you said you wouldn’t kiss me for any amount of money!”

“And I wouldn’t,” Rhett argues, “I wasn’t havin’ anybody _pay_ for us to kiss one another. It wasn’t going to be some roadside attraction for any lookie-loo to gawk at. I wanted the fans to know that – wanted them to know it wasn’t for them. Mean,” he crosses his arms and leans back again, “God bless ‘em, our fans gave us a lot. They gave us our careers, they gave us and our kids our futures, but there were some things they needed to know they weren’t going to get from us.”

He sits back up again, “Think I even told ‘em if we ever _did_ kiss we’d do it on camera, but I was just talkin’ out my ass. I never would’ve filmed us doing that. ‘Cause it ain’t for them,” he eases just a little closer (oh so closer) to Link, “It’s for us.”

One of Rhett’s hands reaches out and very, very gently, rests on Link’s jiggling leg, calming it. Link looks at that hand, looks at Rhett. Rhett carefully withdraws the hand, but it doesn’t matter. Link’s mouth is dry, throat tight as he squeaks, “Said you’d…have to overcome-overcome the…the repulsion to…”

“Again,” Rhett affirms, “Talkin’ out my ass.”

The next swallow Link has is audible and does absolutely nothing to bring moisture back to his mouth, “N-never thought about-?”

“It’s the white elephant argument, man,” is the simple answer, “You say it, you think it. ‘Course I’ve thought about it. But I’ve never thought about it in depth,” his eyes fall to Link’s lips, “Not ‘till recently."

The moment feels charged, restless, and the cruel voice in Link’s mind starts having its say; _Don’t think this is at all like_ your _thing_ , it chides him darkly, _this is something recent. A temporary insanity. He’s just lonely. You’ll kiss him and that’ll be that. He’ll realize his mistake. He’s not like_ you _._

 _That’s good_ , is his automatic, honest response, _that’s good_.

But even if Rhett is...

It would be okay. That’s the whole issue. Link can accept others. He can’t accept himself. It’s so stupid, so irrational. But it is what it is, and as he looks at Rhett now, he decides that it’s probably best to just get it over with. Again, he hates when the voice is right, but it’s _right_ – once they kiss, the mystique will be gone.

The idea of them kissing has been hanging over them for years, the sword of Damocles. Best to just let it fall and move on. The voice will be right, _Link_ will be right, and everyone else will be appeased. They went on a date, they tried ( _he_ tried) and, at the end of the day – they found that they’re just friends, after all. Nothing more, nothing less.

This in mind, Link gives a resolute nod and presses his lips to Rhett’s.

He draws back and the two just stare at one another.

A few blank blinks.

Rhett speaks first, “Um…what was that?”

“What do you mean?” Link scoffs, “It was a kiss, you turkey.”

“ _That_ was a kiss?” is returned with such disbelief that Link can’t help but feel offended, “Of course it was! What did you think it was?!”

“I mean…it was a _peck_ ,” Rhett’s nose wrinkles, “At best.”

Link is livid, “My lips touched yours! I don’t know how you define a kiss, but-!”

“I’d sure a heck define it better than _that_ ,” Rhett laughs, “Whatever _that_ was. If that’s what you call a kiss I don’t see how in the world you and Christy had not one, but three kids. Or did you not kiss when you were-?”

“Hey!” Link snaps, “Don’t get nasty about it!”

“I ain’t trying to get nasty,” Rhett says easily, clearly not intending for it to be taken that way, “I’m honestly curious. When you kiss, is it always that perfunctory or do you ever try and put some intensity into it?”

He squirms a little where he sits, expression a touch goofy, “A lil’ spice? A lil’ sumpin’, sumpin’. A lil-!”

“I get it,” Link comes across a little less testy this time, but it’s clear he’s still unhappy with Rhett’s reaction, “Look, man – you’re the one who said we wouldn’t be doin’ this like some bit. Not like how we would’ve done it for the show, if – in fact – we’d ever done it for the show and-!”

“No, no, no,” Rhett’s words override his, “This is _exactly_ how we – or rather _you_ – would’ve done it for the show. Very basic, very plain, very kissing your auntie.”

“I-!” Link’s tone rises more out of amused horror than anything else, “I’ve never kissed my aunt!”

“Okay, well, my point is, that that kiss was very much a familial, duty-bound kind of kiss. Not the kind of kiss you’d give somebody who you asked out on a date.”

Link feels his whole face working and he can’t articulate exactly why he’s turned on a dime again. One more he's angry, he's upset, he can't pinpoint why, but he is, as he grumbles, “Well, if _you’re_ so great at it – why don’t _you_ kiss _me_!”

“Because you asked me out,” is Rhett's (and in Link’s opinion dumb) answer, “Think you’re the one who should be drivin’ this bus. Now, maybe you just did it like that ‘cause you was nervous? I could close my eyes? Maybe that’d make it easier? Mean, you sort of just shot right in there and gave me a quick little smackeroo and I think it’s important you take your time and since you’ve been sort of avoidin’ looking at me all night maybe-?”

“I’ve avoided looking at you,” Link seethes, “Because you don’t know what you’re messing with!”

The words come out with a kind of venom that’s very uncharacteristic of Link. So much so that Rhett eases back some, regarding him with some surprise, “Link? I don’t-?”

Fuming, Link whips off his glasses and puts them on the nearby coffee table, “You want intensity? You want spice? You want a kiss?”

The question is asked with an irritated heat that is the very antithesis of what should be felt when one is about to kiss their date, but it’s there all the same as Link pushes up slightly from the couch and growls, “Here it comes!”

And with that he takes Rhett’s face in his hands and kisses him.

This kiss is nothing at all like what he first attempted.

This kiss is lips pushing, tongue surging, and Rhett lets out a choked noise, startled.

It’s not particularly good.

For all of two seconds.

Because when Link gets in the right position, when Rhett readjusts himself to better accommodate it, when Rhett’s mouth falls open and allows Link access to it? Everything turns on its head.

A wild, hungry groan shudders up from the very depths of Link’s soul and his entire body quivers. His hands scrape up along Rhett’s beard and dive into his hair, fingers turning and twisting in the unruly curls and Rhett’s answering sound displays that he’s still completely unprepared for this.

Unprepared for this...onslaught.

Link’s tongue laps along his, skates over it, plunders deep into the cavern of his mouth and bodily, he’s up and over. Somehow he manhandles his friend beneath him, climbs aboard his lap, legs spread on either side so he can be above him, over him, all around him, and Rhett gasps as Link pulls back for only a second to allow them both a few seconds of sweet fresh air.

Only a second.

Then he’s back again, kissing Rhett for all he’s worth, drawing the very air from his lungs. Rhett’s own hands rise up from where they’d fallen aside, rise up to gingerly trace over the smaller man’s shoulder blades, along his back and then one hand cups the nape of his neck tenderly as he tries to draw all this back some. Link has become a wildfire. He’s uncontained energy and heat, scorching across Rhett’s once tame nervous system. Link's trying to incinerate him and then breathe in the smoke, the ashes of Rhett that’s left.

Link’s trying to consume Rhett and age doesn’t seem to hinder him in the slightest. He’s powered by something else, something long bottled up and now it’s _free_. Free and dangerous and Link won’t let Rhett smooth this out. He won’t let him try to tamper this down, because this is what he wanted, isn’t it?

 _It doesn't matter. This is what I want_ , the voice and his thoughts are one in the same and Rhett tastes just as good as Link always imagined and he feels even better. He wants Rhett under him. he wants Rhett over him. He wants Rhett _inside_ of him. The unreality and reality of this situation are clashing with one another when he _feels_ it. Feels it beneath his thundering pulse, feels it under the thrill in his blood stream, feels it past the riotous beat of his heart…he _feels_ it.

A part of him, long thought dormant and dead, stirs.

Link feels a jolt shoot straight down to his dick and it _responds_. Lust long dormant comes to the surface, sparks across his skin, his scalp, and he _moans_. It feels good. _It feels good_. And the utter pleasure, the sheer aggressiveness of his desire, guts him. They’re still kissing and Rhett’s hands are on him, trying to soothe, as if sensing Link’s irrational and unhealthy drives and doing their best to calm him down, to return him to some semblance of sanity and reason and he barely manages to peel their lips apart as he pants, “Link, _Christ_ …”

And then the worst possible thing happens.

A tear escapes.

It trembles along Link’s left eyelash and splatters on one of Rhett’s cheekbones and Link is kissing him again, pressing their faces together, but the tears won’t stop. They smear between them, a wet mess bathing both their cheeks but originating solely from Link and clearly alarmed Rhett tries his best to break this up again, whispering into Link’s mouth, “Link, Link…you’re-? Don’t-?”

Rhett wants to talk. Link can sense that. He wants to help. Link _knows_ that.

But it’s too late.

Link’s lost his mind.

He finally manages to break away, to sob, and one hand covers his mouth, his head shaking violently as he croaks out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just-! _I’m so sorry_. I have to-! I gotta-!”

Link vaults off of Rhett with little to no grace. He knocks his glasses, their bowls, a variety of knickknacks that were on the couch to the floor in his haste to get away. He wavers and wobbles on his feet even as he continues to weep, making his way blindly to where he knows the restroom is. Once the door is shut behind him, he collapses against the back of the door and finds himself descending to the floor as he cries.

He cries his very heart out.


End file.
